


bean here all day (here's my number)

by ancneun



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, alex is rolling her eyes, coffee shop AU, kara is pretty brave, lena needs to get her work done, there's a kitty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25357444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancneun/pseuds/ancneun
Summary: Lena Luthor is the CEO of a multi-billion company.So it goes without saying that she can afford any convenience that she needs for her day to day living.Her internet connection says otherwise.orlena needs to get some work done on a sunday. wi-fi fails because of course it does, so she goes to a coffee shop and hello, hello, the baristalooksgorgeous.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 13
Kudos: 425





	bean here all day (here's my number)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cautiouslyoptimistic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cautiouslyoptimistic/gifts).



> here's a little fluff thing i wrote for a good bub whose favorite is, apparently, the coffee shop trope. shout out to c-optimistic on tumblr!! i hope you like this one. forever grateful. ♥
> 
> unbeta'd.

Lena Luthor is the CEO of a multi-billion company. 

So it goes without saying that she can afford _any_ convenience that she needs for her day to day living. 

She can buy a car for a trip to the grocery and have another car for a trip to the dentist. (She doesn’t have one car for one destination, of course. She’s not that extra.)

She can buy an entire company if she really wants to, and the purchase will not make a dent in her bank account at all.

She can buy an entire internet service provider if she really wants to, but up until this point in her life, she has never felt or saw a need to do so.

_Up until this point_ because for some reason, on this particular Sunday morning, the Wi-Fi in her building has decided to have a break, successfully fucking up her schedule for the day, but since she is Lena Luthor, a little blip will not keep her from accomplishing her goals for the day.

So she slides her laptop back into a bag and makes her way out of the building after leaving a note to her assistant to call the provider for a quick fix. There’s a little coffee shop about three blocks away from her current location and she’s heard of good reviews about great coffee and internet speed. 

That should be a good enough solution for this little problem.

“Going home early, Miss Luthor?” George, one of the security guards at the entrance, smiles at her, probably thinking that she’s taking an early leave since it’s Sunday.

_Hah. Funny_.

“Your car’s not yet—”

“I’m not going home, George,” she cuts in gently, albeit her steps are anything but. “I’ll be in that coffee shop across the road.”

“Oh, then—”

Lena doesn’t bother waiting for him to ask if someone’s going with her. No, no one’s going with her. Not a single security detail because she’s going to a coffee shop to work, for Christ’s sake. No one is going to sneak up on her and try to assassinate her.

_Well, hopefully._

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  


There’s a relatively small crowd walking along the usually busy streets of National City, so it doesn’t take her too long to reach the coffee shop. She takes some time to appreciate its exterior; just your typical cute-looking front with a— … a cup with a face drawn on it and it’s _winking_. 

It’s bloody winking.

To its left reads: _BEAN HERE ALL DAY_ , and Lena snorts. Whoever the owner of this shop is definitely not familiar with minimalism, then again, to each their own. In a way, it is kind of cute.

Figuring she’s done enough observing, she pushes the door and walks in, hesitating slightly upon realizing that there’s only one other person inside the shop and it is _so_ quiet. The A/C unit is blasting the place with winds from Antarctica, and _seriously_ , it’s just her, that other person, and the barista. If the interior doesn’t scream comfort and _homey_ , she’d honestly doubt this place is supposed to make someone feel at ease. 

Then again, that’s just probably her being paranoid — or not used to being in a coffee shop. She never had the need to get her own coffee; her assistant did that for her and—

“Welcome!” The barista greets, snapping her out of her trance. “Plenty of empty seats today, so feel free to occupy whichever spot you like. There’s a couch right there with a power outlet nearby, if you’re here to do some work.”

“Um,” Lena blinks and glances over at the couch the barista was just pointing at. “Right, yes. Thanks.”

She walks over to that corner of the room and places her bag on the coffee table, taking out her laptop and placing it on her lap as she sits. The couch is a little bit too low for her liking, especially since she’s wearing a form-fitting skirt today. She grimaces and starts to get up, looking around if there’s an ordinary table near the power outlet, but—

“Here,” the barista stops next to the couch, holding a gray blanket in one hand and a tablet in the other. “You can put this on your lap or cover your entire legs with it during your stay. Don’t worry, it’s clean. We offer them to our customers all the time.” 

Lena blinks at the proffered blanket, still unsure as to why there’s even a blanket in front of her face, but hey, she needs it, doesn’t she? 

“Thank you,” she says, taking the blanket and unfolding it, making sure to cover the entirety of her lap and some parts of her legs because it _really_ is cold in the room. 

“You’re most welcome,” the barista _gleams_ at her, and it’s only then that Lena _notices_ the barista. 

Dressed in what is typically a barista’s outfit, nothing should make this one look so special, but leave it to Lena to notice how significantly blue this barista’s eyes are, or how vibrantly golden this barista’s hair is. Leave it to Lena to notice how _fitting_ the shirt is, how it accentuates a delicious pair of arms and— _shoulders_. Broad shoulders. 

How is a face like that even _on_ a body like that?

“— take your order?”

Lena blinks for what feels like the millionth time since she entered the coffee shop. She shakes her head as subtly as she can and gathers herself. “Just a cup of black coffee for me.”

“Hot or iced?”

“... Iced.”

“Anything else to go with that?”

“Uh,” Lena presses her lips and spares a quick glance at the displays near the counter. “One of your bestselling pastries?”

“One Kara Danvers Special with a glass of iced black coffee!” the barista taps on her tablet a few times. “I’ll be back with your order.”

… And she’s gone — as swift as the wind coming out of the A/C unit.

She shivers at the reminder and focuses her attention back on her laptop. She finishes the response she was typing earlier in her office, but just as she’s about to send it, she realizes she hadn’t asked the barista for the coffee shop’s password earlier, which means that she has no internet connection and—

In the end, all she can do is sigh.

She looks up and cranes her head to see if the barista’s back, but she’s not there and Lena’s not entirely sure if the other customer is friendly enough to tell her what the password is, so she decides to wait. 

She crosses her arms over her stomach and leans back. She might as well take a few minutes of rest, considering that she’s been working since six in the morning and the clock on her screen is telling her that it’s already eleven, only twenty-one minutes from turning twelve. 

She sighs again, restless when she doesn’t have anything to do with her fingers, and who else can she honestly blame but herself? She’d gaped at the barista like an idiot, resulting in her not getting the most essential thing to what she came for in the coffee shop; like she’s a teenager whose hormones are all over the place that something as _handsome_ as the barista is enough to render her speechless and _useless_. 

She scoffs to herself, arms tightening as she puts more of her weight into the couch, only split seconds away from sulking when a movement from her peripheral vision catches her attention.

Her eyebrows furrows briefly as she turns to where the other person— a woman— is sitting. Really, all Lena can see is the back of her head, red hair neatly combed to the back. And right next to it is— _oh my god_ — the tiniest kitten she’s ever seen in her life (or, at least, in person), teetering on the backrest of the couch. 

She feels a quick tug at the corner of her lips, not knowing that it’s a smile threatening to split them, but just as she’s about to give in to such a reaction, Lena’s eyes widen when the little ball of fur wiggles its butt and _leaps_ . Right off the fucking couch, which is about eighteen inches off the fucking floor and _god,_ it’s small and—

“Hey—!” She jerks into action, as if she’s capable of crossing that significant distance from where she’s sitting to where the kitten is in one, split second, but of course, she’s not. And the kitten is fine, because of course, it is.

It is still a _cat_ after all.

The kitten lands with a small thud on the floor, and while Lena is still worried that it might have hurt itself, she huffs to herself again because _god_ , what is with this coffee shop and why— how is it drawing out all these reactions from her that she usually doesn’t have?

The woman lifts her head to the sound of her voice (and the thud, she presumes) and merely snorts as she watches the little thing run around the nearly empty room in its wobbly legs. The woman turns in her seat, placing an arm over the couch’s backrest as she regards Lena with a little smile. 

“Did she scare you?”

Lena blinks once before answering. “Huh?”

“The kitten,” she points at the kitten currently clawing at one of the chairs. “Her name is Cliff… mostly because she likes _yeeting_ herself off of high places. I don’t know why.”

“Oh,” Lena drawls, and then laughs softly. “She did, but it was cute. Now that I know that she’s okay and… apparently, she likes doing that.”

“Oh, she does.”

The barista’s voice comes seemingly out of nowhere and gives Lena a whiplash. She’s carrying the tray with ease in one hand as the other quickly starts the task of placing Lena’s orders on the coffee table. 

“... You know this kitten.”

“Of course,” the barista grins. “She’s a regular here, actually. Every Sunday, she pays us a visit because she knows we love a weekly dose of kittens jumping off high places. She scared us at first, too, so you’re totally not alone.”

“Right…” Lena drawls again, lowering her gaze on her keyboard because those blue eyes are too much— _way too much_ . “Thanks, by the way.” _For the coffee and the pastry…_

The barista seems to linger as she nods her acknowledgement, but when it becomes obvious that Lena has nothing more to say (even if she knows she _needs_ to ask for the password), she begins to back away and— _is that a disappointed look on her face?_

Lena finally snaps out of it and lifts her hand. “Wait!”

The barista comically skids to a stop, turning back to her with a ready smile on her face. “Yes?”

“I need the password for your Wi-Fi,” Lena says. “May I get it?”

“Oh…” The barista blinks slowly, pursing her lips, a crestfallen look on her face _again_ , but it quickly disappears, replaced by a look of determination. She rips a piece of paper from her notepad and starts scribbling quickly, her tongue poking just slightly at the corner of her lips and it’s _so_ cute, _so_ distracting that Lena nearly lifts up the piece of bread and _drinks_ from it. 

“Here,” the barista hands over the piece of paper and Lena takes it.

It’s a combination of numbers that… suspiciously resembles what a phone number would look like. 

“This is the password?” she asks.

“My phone number,” the barista says, a pretty shade of pink spreading all over her cheeks at an alarming speed. “...actually.”

“ _Oh._ ”

There’s a long stretch of silence after that… like Lena is not entirely sure what to do with this piece of information. Does she fold the paper and store it in her pocket (or her bra, since her current outfit doesn’t really have pockets)? Does she take her phone out and save the number _immediately_ because she’s heard and read so many horror stories about lost phone numbers? 

_“God_ , this is so frustrating,” a voice interrupts her thoughts. “If it’s not yet obvious, Kara is crushing on you and would like to be able to text you.”

“Alex!”

Lena looks up from the paper and slowly, _finally,_ a smile blooms on her face when sense eventually comes back to her. “Your name is Kara.”

“Yes,” _Kara_ smiles. “And yours is..?”

“Lena.”

“Lena,” Kara repeats, and her name sounds so sweet coming from those lips, she wonders just how much sweeter it would be if she actually gets to _taste_ her name off of them. “It’s a beautiful name. It suits you.”

“And yours,” Lena grins this time. “So, this means that your bestselling pastry is _your_ specialty, huh?” she pats the space next to her. “Sit with me for a while? Tell me all about this specialty of yours.”

Kara is all too glad to do so, making herself comfortable next to Lena, who has finally made the decision to put her laptop on the table. 

“Okay, so, first of all: yes and no.”

“Explain.”

“Yes, It’s my specialty and… no, uh, it’s not really the bestselling pastry.”

Lena’s face starts to morph into _something_. Not negative, no, but the disappearance of her smile makes the blonde panic. 

“ _But!_ But it’s also not really for sale,” Kara chuckles softly, her embarrassment still visible in the blush all over her face and now, to her neck. “I make it for myself and, I don’t know, I guess I want something for _myself_ ? So… I decided not to put it on display, _ever_ , but you’re too pretty so… you know.”

Lena feels a smirk pushing at her cheek. “Is that so?”

“Oh, don’t look too smug.”

  
“Oh, but I feel _so smug_ right now.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @ancneun


End file.
